


Lie back and think of Gallifrey

by asparagusmama



Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Genetics, Temporal Paradox, Timey-Wimey, one historical use of a racist word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 12:45:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16744246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asparagusmama/pseuds/asparagusmama
Summary: Once he realises the temporal paradox and the genetic code, the Doctor realises he has no chose but to square his shoulders, bite the bullet, and lie back and think of Gallifrey.





	Lie back and think of Gallifrey

Ace was asleep at last. She had been badly injured and in pain and had taken some tending to, but now she slept a natural healing sleep and the Doctor had time to think about what those scans in the TARDIS sick bay had revealed about her.

It was frankly disturbing, almost a cosmic joke, the daftest and most disturbing loose end for the grand chess master manipulator Time's Champion to mop up.

Ah well, no time like the present, no doubt Ace would sleep for a good nine hours yet...

 

He materialised on the Perivale Broadway, a little way off from the popular pub he was able to locate her DNA in. He flipped his hat on his head, hung his brolly from his top pocket and left the TARDIS and walked down the street on a windy late November night in 1969. The place was less middle class peace and love and more drunk and aggressive and skinhead. He could hear Jamaican beats pouring out of a tiny flat above the shops and smell the strong odours of curried goat and rice and peas intermingling with strong beer and even stronger hashish. Black and white young people were leaning over the walkway in front of the row of flats above the shops, as well as draped over the steps at the end of the modern block of shops. Older, whiter, people, glared from a bus stop, until a route master appeared to take them away.

The road was quite busy, small cars driving too fast with their passengers ignoring later safety wisdom. A car full of young skinheads went past, yelling,

“Nice threads Granddad!”

The Doctor tipped his hat to them.

An Indian restaurant was busy next door to the 'Frog and Toad', the smells of spices and cooked meats and vegetables and rice far more enticing that the sloppy beer and boiled cabbage and bacon smell of the pub.

Still, he had a loose end to tie up, a job to perform.

The pub was crowded. Lovers Rock blared out of a jukebox and young couples were grinding against each other among the tables. The bar was heaving with mostly young white men waving grubby pound notes and shouting their orders.

A quick scan of the public revealed no sight of his target, so he slipped into the snug.

He heard her before he saw her, as if Ace had smoked 20 cigarettes a day from the age of thirteen. She was propping the bar, smoking and crying into her Babycham, grabbing the barman every time he tried to leave.

“Do.. do I even want him back, that's what I want to know! Wh'yda think?”

“Aud, I have to...”

And she grabbed his tee shirt. “Am I boring you Steve?”

“I think poor Steve is busy, Miss,” the Doctor said. “It's heaving in the public. Can I buy you a drink and you can tell me all about it.”

Steve gave the Doctor a thankful look.

“'Ere, what's your game then?”

“Absolutely nothing. I'm new to the area and popped in for a quiet pint, but it seems very busy.”

“Friday night, ain't it? Yeah, alright, I'll have a Babycham.”

“One Babycham and...?”

“One soda water please,” the Doctor said.

Steve gave the Doctor a confused look, before nodding, “Ice and a slice?”

“Straight up.”

“Here you go.” He took the Doctor's money and slipped quickly through to the public bar to assist the two barmaids overwhelmed by the Friday night rush.

“Shall we sit down?” the Doctor asked, taking the two drinks and walking over to the corner of the room to a round table with two chairs padded with red, stained, upholstery.

“Sure,” she said, half-falling off the bar stool and stumbling over in her heeled white boots. Her hair was long and unbrushed, bleached blonde with inch thick darker roots showing, and her make-up looked at least three days old.

“What's your game then? I ain't a working girl. I have a man, though I don't know if he's gonna stay..”

“The thought couldn't be further from my mind. I'm new to the area as I said. I'm known as the... My name is John Smith. Doctor John Smith.”

“Audrey. Audrey Dudley. Soon to be Mrs Audrey McShane, least you get any ideas.”

The Doctor smiled enchantingly, “As I said. I am just after a little company. Now, why should a charming young woman, a party girl I would guess, be drinking all alone in the snug instead of dancing in the other room?”

“Bit unhappy. Pissed off too. Sorry. Never mind.”

“Tell me all about it. It can be good to let your feelings out.”

“My bloke gone and got himself arrested, hasn't he? He got send down for 2 months today. Lawyer swore he'd get a suspended sentence.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.”

“Actual Bodily Harm, weren't it? He was drunk, but he meant no harm and the bloke he pummelled was picking on that Paki kid, so it was like he was being a Good Samaritan.”

“Sometimes we have to pay for doing the right thing, the universe is a cruel and unjust place. I noticed an Indian Restaurant next door. How about we get something to eat and you can tell me all about it? I haven't eaten for some while and you could do with soaking up all that Babycham...”

 

*

 

A pink dawn lit up the darkness and reflected on the frost covered roofs as the Doctor slipped out of Audrey's bed and quickly dressed. He looked back at the sleeping form of Ace's mother and pulled out his sonic and scanned her.

Yes, he had timed it right, and it looked like everything was in place for conception to happen in a few hours. He shuddered and tiptoed quietly out, closing the door behind him. He was startled to see an elderly Kathleen open her bedroom door. It looked as if she was about to say something angry and censorious to yet another man creeping out of her daughter's bedroom on a Saturday morning, but instead her eyes widened in shock.

“Doctor? You've not aged a day...?”

The Doctor put his finger to his lips. “S'sh. I wasn't here. I'm just a dream.” 

 

*

Ace woke up refreshed and relatively pain free. She looked down at her bandaged arm and chest and gingerly touched her cut face and battered head before she sat up. The Doctor had promised to get her back to the TARDIS and fix her up, and he had been as good as his word.

And she had dealt with that scum of a fascist kidnapping the kids.

The Doctor had told her that the pirates had agreed to leave the space station, but she couldn't stop herself. They had been after the children, to sell for sickos to abuse. She didn't care if the space cops had been on their way, and the planet was sending a ship up for the abandoned children to re-home them. No one should leave kids stuck on a dying pace station coz the funding stopped for the care home any more than pirates should sell unwanted children.

No child should be unwanted.

She knew that.

Her age, Audrey had been. No excuse. Her dad had bailed and she'd never been there for her. Too busy wanting a good time.

Still, her childhood had been a breeze compared to those ones they rescued yesterday. She went in search of the Doctor to apologise and thank him.

Not in the console room, kitchen, or library, she found him in his en-suite bathroom, showering. He never showered, he liked to bathe. 

Odd that.

Never one for boundaries, and loving to embarrass him, she walked in. She had no idea why she felt so comfortable with him. She hated him and loved him and trusted him like he was her mum and dad in one package.

He was scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing at his body. Last time he'd done that was after the Cheetah Planet, after he and the Master...

“Alright?”

“Aagh! You startled me Ace.”

“You alright? Not had an adventure on your own while I slept?”

“Not really. Tying up a loose end Ace. I'll be with you soon. I need to get dressed. Put the kettle on. It's time we discussed your schooling.”

“My what?”

“I know you've been studying Gallifreyan. I believe your place is at the Academy.”

“The... Academy?”

“In the Prydonian Chapter.”

“You serious?”

“Ace. I said we would discuss this over tea.”

“Okay. But wicked! Ace! You're right, I want my own TARDIS!”

“Ace. Tea. I've had a very trying night!”

“What? Right you are Professor.”

“Father,” mouthed the Doctor to himself, shuddering, he grabbed a towel as he heard her close the door behind her.


End file.
